My husband made a funny mouth sound. Malka: What you eating, daddy?Daddy: I'm not eating anything, I'm just clearing my throat.Malka: Daddy, what you eating???Daddy: I'm not eating.Malka: You eating your booger, Daddy?

This morning, leaving the house in a very thick cloud of fog. Malka has been very resistant to getting dressed, going outside, etc. She steps onto the front stoop and stops short.Malka: Mama, it is DARK outside!I know sweetie, it's fog. Malka: No, Mama, is dark. We need to go to bed!

My car keys have a "panic button" that sets off my car alarm, and its right next to the "unlock" button. So I often press the "panic" button when I mean to unlock the car. I hadn't realized how often though, until Leela heard a car alarm go off and yelled "MAMA PRESS WRONG BUTTON!!!!"

_________________My oven is bigger on the inside, and it produces lots of wibbly wobbly, cake wakey... stuff. - The PoopieB.

Iz was mumbling to himself, and I caught a little snippet where he was saying, "quatre, cinq, Sieben, quatre, cinq, Sieben." I think he was trying to count legos. Pretty sure he had no idea which numbers he was saying!

_________________when you realise how perfect everything is, you will tilt you head back and laugh at the sky. -buddha

It's time for us to start censoring our language. My 18 month old says fork ALL the time. The funny thing is she uses it appropriately, like if she trips and falls or if she's frustrated. We need to start saying "oops" instead.

It's time for us to start censoring our language. My 18 month old says fork ALL the time. The funny thing is she uses it appropriately, like if she trips and falls or if she's frustrated. We need to start saying "oops" instead.

Oh my god, this makes me love her even more.

But also maybe not the best when it's time for school.

_________________"No one with hair so soft and glossy could ever be bad at anything." - Tofulish

We tried censoring and we just couldn't do it, so now we're trying to teach poopieboy about "at home" words and "in public" words. Because he has the mouth of a sailor. The other day mr. poopie took him out to Starbucks and they messed up his order. The finally got it right, but once they got out to the car poopieboy said "daddy, they forked up our drink!" Oh dear.

When they do any sort of art work at preschool they always ask the kids what they are drawing/painting/etc and write it on the paper. Last week there was a picture that Ada drew and it was labeled "a picture". Today when I dropped her off I looked at her leaf project (gluing leaves they brought in on paper) and it was labeled "a pile of leaves". It's just funny because all of the other drawings and projects from the other kids have really random stuff written on them.

My mother picks my 3-year-old daughter up from school when I'm working and they do all kinds of grandma stuff like playing mah-jong and knit. Daughter came home from school last week with a drawing that looked like a giant grid with a million boxes and she'd scribbled in the boxes. At the top it said "I'm making the game grandma plays in the newspaper." She drew a sudoku game!

Today Walter noticed he could see his breath when we were outside and said, "Fire is coming out of me!"

I love listening to him figure out language. The other day he told me his teacher "plugged out" the lamp (meaning she unplugged it), which makes total sense because "plug out" is the opposite of "plug in." Another interesting one was when he didn't know the word for the noisemakers at his birthday party, he called them "those noisy blowing out straight things." He is getting so good at communicating and it's fascinating to witness!

We tried censoring and we just couldn't do it, so now we're trying to teach poopieboy about "at home" words and "in public" words. Because he has the mouth of a sailor. The other day mr. poopie took him out to Starbucks and they messed up his order. The finally got it right, but once they got out to the car poopieboy said "daddy, they forked up our drink!" Oh dear.

I kind of love this.

Violet has, remarkably, not picked up our (literal) sailor talk. Though she did horrify my MIL by saying "butt" at dinner once. (I think I posted this somewhere but she asked what a napkin was for, I said wiping, she grabbed it, reached back, and said "wipe..zuh butt!" It was hilarious, but apparently the woman who gave birth to my frequently swearing husband thinks butt is a bad word. I'll be glad if that's the worst she says!!

I love that Leela communicates so clearly these days. We have been mentioning that I maybe pregnant in front of her, so now she is really into saying "Mama prenant!" And talking about what it was like when she lived in my tummy, and she pretends to go back into my tummy and then I have to carry her around under my shirt while she punches the air. Its hilarious. And she keeps going on about how much she loves babies and that she wants a real one to play with.

_________________My oven is bigger on the inside, and it produces lots of wibbly wobbly, cake wakey... stuff. - The PoopieB.

We tried censoring and we just couldn't do it, so now we're trying to teach poopieboy about "at home" words and "in public" words. Because he has the mouth of a sailor. The other day mr. poopie took him out to Starbucks and they messed up his order. The finally got it right, but once they got out to the car poopieboy said "daddy, they forked up our drink!" Oh dear.

I told Beetroot there is this thing called The Parent Game that nobody talks about (and if you ask about it, you not only lose the game, but everyone will deny it exists), but that other parents and adults silently judge parents based on their children's behaviour and that he has to be a nice person in public and also not say certain words so we can win the game and not lose.

I did a similar thing called The Santa Game because we don't celebrate Christmas and I didn't want him to spoil it for anyone else and so we wouldn't have any awkward moments when people asked him about Santa. I said they are all playing The Santa Game and that they will try to trick him by asking about Christmas and he has to make up an answer without revealing that Santa doesn't really exist. On Christmas Day, Beety came into the living room and asked, "Crabby, did Santa come?""Uh, no."He rolls his eyes at me. "Uh, Crabby? The Santa Game. You lose."